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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186172">Vriska Eats Breakfast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classpectanon/pseuds/Classpectanon'>Classpectanon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [34]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Breakfast, Disability, Food, Gen, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:54:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classpectanon/pseuds/Classpectanon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a beautiful day outside, very sunny and warm, almost vivacious. This meant that the blackout curtains in Vriska's bedroom were all drawn as tightly as possible to lock out every scrap of light she could possibly manage to avoid. The only light necessary was the whining glare from her computer screen. Nobody ever wanted to wake up at 10 AM during summer vacation, right?</p><p>34/365</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vriska Serket &amp; A Bowl Of Cereal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [34]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vriska Eats Breakfast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a beautiful day outside, very sunny and warm, almost vivacious. This meant that the blackout curtains in Vriska's bedroom were all drawn as tightly as possible to lock out every scrap of light she could possibly manage to avoid. The only light necessary was the whining glare from her computer screen. Nobody ever wanted to wake up at 10 AM during summer vacation, right?</p><p>Vriska kept a minifridge in her room - the less she had to deal with her mom, the better. Acquiring all the relevant goods from its interior was easy, if slow, since she didn't feel like putting her arm on this early in the day. She was going to eat, and then probably go right the fuck back to sleep. If she was up before 2 PM, it was too early. First, the tray - not necessary, but pinning it between her palm and her upper arm and her chest to provide three points of contact made it easier to carry things, if harder to put them down.</p><p>Then, a cold orange. Yes, it was summer, the time of snacks and jubilation but that didn't mean she wanted to get, like, scurvy or whatever. No thanks. Then there was a bowl, also kept in the minifridge, because she was lazy and liked to have everything in one space (otherwise, her overwhelming ADHD would result in it, like, ending up under her bed somehow). Plus, a cold bowl meant colder breakfast, and that was always refreshing. Milk, check. Cereal (Reese's Puffs, Reese's Puffs, Peanut Butter Chocolate Flavor). Check, check, check.</p><p>Vriska didn't keep boxes of cereal, instead preferring to recycle them into their component cardboard pieces for making LARP stuff out of. Oh man, the other day she made this cool silver spray painted cardboard sleeve for her arm to make it look like a badass robot arm? It was the fucking best. Anyway, so there was no need for her to do anything more complicated than just unfurling the plastic bag, propping it up against the edge of the bowl, and tipping it forward until it spilled out the appropriate two servings of breakfast. Vriska chafed against the serving suggestions on the boxes. One was simply not enough! She folded the cereal baggie back up and threw it into the fridge.</p><p>Instead of a full gallon of milk, Vriska bought all her milk in the little tiny lunch cartons that they gave you at school. Yes, they tasted kind of weird and off, but it was actually possible to open and pour them one-handed, as opposed to a gallon or even half-gallon, which required her to bite the handle in order to get the right amount of bracing to screw the top off - yuck! Pop it open, pull it across, dump the milk in, toss the carton into the trash. Grab a plastic spoon from on top of the fridge, cram it into the bowl, grab the tray, pin it between your palm, shoulder, and chest, and now came the really hard part.</p><p>Slowly and carefully, Vriska ambled her way along her bedroom floor, dropping into a one-legged kneel when she got close to her bed, and then both legs, watching the milk-filled bowl with a dangerous level of concentration. Then, she lowered herself a little more, until the tray was on her blanket, and pressed it against the bed, sliding it out from its perched position along her upper body. Finally, she let go of it, satisfied with a job well done, and twirled herself onto bed.</p><p>Great, glad that that's over with! Vriska grabs a spoonful of Reese's Puffs (Reese's Puffs, the commercial plays on loop in her brain) and starts going to town.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. All views, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated.<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/classpectanon">Twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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